


Privilege

by grumpyphoenix



Series: Brain Salad [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, M/M, Not Beta Read, Writing Exercise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-25
Updated: 2018-06-25
Packaged: 2019-05-28 11:04:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15047471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grumpyphoenix/pseuds/grumpyphoenix
Summary: Prince Draco catches up to Harry as he drowns his sorrow in a glass of whiskey.Prompt: Jazz Club, Harry Potter, Royalty AU, friends to lovers





	Privilege

**Author's Note:**

> Idea taken from [Catchclaw's ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Catchclaw/works) Mental Mimosa series. Using some prompt generators, I want to take at least 25 minutes each day to write until the timer goes off, different fandoms, different prompts.

Harry sits by himself in the club, watching Luna and her band on the stage. She’s beautiful, singing “My Funny Valentine”, her hair and clothing a call back to the nineteen-forties. He’s picked a seat in the balcony so that he can be alone tonight and still be there for his friend. The lighting in the club is gloomy, though he suspects Hermione would call it “atmospheric” instead. It goes with the red carpet and the old, solid dark wood tables. And the whiskey. 

He’s already several drinks in, and up to his neck in wallowing. With two fingers, he rolls his wand back and forth on the table. He isn’t sure what he’s planning to do with it, but he wants to do something angry. Something destructive.

A slender and elegant hand comes from around him and rests on the wand, stopping him. In his ear, lips just shy of brushing the skin, is a whispered, “Harry, whatever you are contemplating seems like a poor idea.”

Harry closes his eyes. “Your Highness,” he starts, but doesn’t get to finish as a finger rests on his lips, quelling speech.

Opening his eyes, he sees Draco sit across from him and steeple both hands together, giving him a  _ look. _ Fuck, he’s beautiful. For a second he forgets where he is, and all he can remember are those eyes, desperate with want, and a quiet but forceful  _ please, please Harry, don’t stop. Harry, I love you. _

“Dra...Draco.” He’s rewarded with a smile, and Harry is lost again until he remembers what day it is. He looks away, it’s too hard to look at those eyes right now.

“Why are you here. Aren’t you supposed to be at an…” he clears his throat. “An engagement party?  _ Your _ engagement party?”

Starving, he chances a look back up and thinks he sees a flash of anxiety in the pale grey eyes for a moment, quickly hidden. Draco shrugs one shoulder. “I chose to be here, instead.”

Harry fidgets. His head is swimming, the club is hot, and Draco’s gaze is direct and unrelenting. He feels as if he might be dying. “You… shouldn’t be here, Your Highne.. Draco, you should go.”

The grey gaze drops, and the loss of it makes him feel greedy and desperate. Draco gets up silently, gracefully. He’s leaving, and Harry suddenly can’t do it, he can’t let the sun go out of his life. Impulsively, he reaches out to snatch Draco’s hand. He knows his grip is too tight, he can hear the quiet hiss, but he doesn’t let go.

“Your mother came to my house. She know what we’d done, and she was...she was very angry. She said...she was right. About me, Draco, she was right. I’m bad for you, for the Monarchy. I don’t want to destroy your legacy. ”  Draco’s hand clenches into a fist under Harry’s.

Draco turns, pulling his arm out of Harry’s grip. With a sinuous twist of his body, he climbs onto Harry’s lap, and tangles his hands in the messy dark hair, pulling his head back to expose his throat to lips and tongue.

After a breathless few minutes, when Harry is writhing, his senses all swimming with Draco, the prince whispers, “I have wanted you since I knew what it was to want. You taught me, a stupid young arrogant prince with a horrible father what it was to understand people who were different than I, and I can never repay you.

“If you want to talk about the stupid  _ Monarchy _ , it’s outdated, but if I must participate in it, it can only be better with you on my arm.  But if you want to talk about  _ us…. _ ”

Draco kisses Harry firmly, pulling back to lock eyes. “It was my privilege to take you to bed, Mr. Potter, and it will be mine for as long as you allow it. I’m not getting engaged tonight to seal a deal with my family. When I get engaged, I will do it for love.”

He rocks back and forth teasingly, pulling an amused and frustrated groan from Harry. “And if I have to lose that title, it won’t matter. Not if you’re here.”

Harry’s hands grip Draco’s hips tightly. “I… Draco, you’re…”

Draco laughs, eyebrow arched. “Eloquent as always, Potter.”

Harry stops the laughter with a kiss, gentle, then fervent, then insistent and needy. He pushes forward, lifting Draco up onto the table, knocking everything on it to the floor in his desire to get the Prince under him. Draco laughs, pushing Harry away, but his eyes are bright and feverish.

“Get your wand, Harry,” he pants, “And take me home.”

So Harry does.


End file.
